Getting to Know You: A collection of ficlets
by JLMack
Summary: Ed's guilt, Roy's rules, and Greed's plans for life. What do they have in common? Absolutely nothing. Rating for first chap. Now with Pride!Ed, RoyxEd, Envy singing Total Slaughter, and more. New: crack crossovers galore!
1. Pride Ed: Pain

Getting to Know You: A Collection of FMA ficlets

Note: These ficlets are in no way connected to each other. Some do not even come from the same universe. They are in no chronological order, nor do they fit within any sort of theme or plan. They are merely tiny windows into characters lives as I see the need to write them. There may or may not be spoilers in them, read at your own discretion.

Disclaimer: The characters contained within do not belong to me. They belong to the respective creators, owners, and licensors of the Fullmetal Alchemist anime and manga, as well as the Chinese fangame Bluebird's Illusion. They are not mine, and I make no profit of any kind from these works of fiction.

Warning: This first one requires real warnings. Nothing explicit, but definite violence, psychological games, and not entirely consensual yaoi and psychological incest. This story involves the character Pride from the fangame Bluebird's Illusion, in which Ed is turned into the homunculus Pride. Comments are welcome.

Pain

Pride didn't understand his brother. At best, he could sometimes anticipate his brother's actions; at the worst… Well, now, for instance. Pride had been searching for his brother for the better part of the morning, ever since he had awakened in his corner of brother's room to find him gone from his bed. Pride knew what others sometimes thought of him. Contrary to belief, he was far from stupid, and even if he had been, even the stupidest animals are able to learn patterns from enough repetition. He knew this disappearing was one of the other sin's ways of punishing him when he'd been bad, just as he knew what was to come was the quickest way to be forgiven.

Pride knew these facts, but he sometimes wished, in the small part of him that still could, that he could stop the pain he could see in his brother when the other sin looked at him. He knew this was what Brother wanted him to do… but somehow it didn't make Brother happy. It didn't make Pride happy, either, but he counted his feelings as very little compared to his brother's. He wished he could understand what made his brother mad, what he did that was always so wrong.

He would stop, if he could. He'd once thought it was his eyes that so bothered his brother. He'd thought he'd had a solution, had thought long and hard about it until Brother had gone so far as to ask him what he was doing. Pride knew he didn't think often, but this had been worth the effort. Until Brother stopped him. Brother had stopped him when he tried to dig his own eyes out, the one action he had come to in his thinking that should have made Brother happy. Instead, Brother had seemed especially mad after that incident, and it had been three days before he'd let Pride find him.

Pride knew Brother only let Pride find him when he was ready to forgive Pride for his sins. Pride shuddered as he continued to look for his brother. He remembered that time well. Brother had made some comment about his Pride's "fucking dead eyes" and that had led Pride to decide that if they made Brother mad, then he didn't need them any longer. He had time to register horrified disgust on his brother's face as he dug the fingers of his right hand into his eye, and then he didn't have time for much thought at all as his brother tore his hand away from his face and bodily threw him against the wall. Pride had collapsed to the floor, bewildered but well used to these episodes. That had been quickly followed by his brother's departure and three days of despairing panic as Pride found himself without his anchor.

Pride drew himself back into the present as he found his brother. He didn't flinch, even as the roundhouse kick connected with his jaw, sending him into the wall. The successive punches brought a similar lack of reaction. The fiercely, painfully possessive kiss that followed, as Envy pinned Pride's body against the wall with his own, however, told Pride they had moved on to the second part of the forgiving. Pride understood the rules here no better than in any other aspect of his life. All he knew was that his brother expected something from him, something that would make everything all better for a while… something that Pride didn't know how to give, but that Brother seemed more than capable of taking.

A whimper escaped the sin. "Envy." This was the only time Pride would call his brother by his name. It felt wrong, but it was part of the game, the…whatever this was, together with the pain and the almost-feelings the kisses and touches brought. Pride had learned quickly that calling him 'Brother' would only make him angrier which meant the forgiving would take longer.

Pride blocked everything out as the look in his brother's eyes told him his brother wasn't seeing Pride anymore. Pride closed his eyes in defeat. Sometimes he didn't believe his brother ever really saw him. Someone else belonged in his place, someone Brother wanted to see there desperately. He shuddered as he felt his fingers snap under his brother's grip. It hurt but it made brother happy, as happy as he ever was. Pride moaned, forgetting where he was. Almost-memories pushed at him, but found no purchase in the blank slate of his mind. He didn't, couldn't understand his brother. But this, this pain, he understood. He felt his lip tear and bleed under his brother's teeth and let his body go limp and unresponsive under his brother's questing, hurting fingers. Pain. Pain Pride understood.


	2. RoyxEd: Cat Problems

Warning: This ficlet is Roy/Ed. That means yaoi, aka two guys. You have been warned 

Cat Problems

Edward Elric was most decidedly NOT at all cat-like. Oh, sure, he liked cats well enough, and, he supposed, some of his traits may have leaned _slightly_ toward the feline, such as his ability to fall asleep almost anywhere. But that didn't make Ed himself at all like a cat.

For one thing, he hated- no, _detested_- milk. Weren't cats supposed to like the disgusting liquid chalk? Well, he didn't. So, there, un-cat-like trait number one. He was sure he could think of more. He couldn't pinpoint any right now, but he told himself it was because he was distracted... Yes, distracted…

And where did that stupid Colonel get off calling him a "good kitty" anyway? The fact that he was currently purring wasn't helping his cause, either. His attempt to stop came out more as a growl, much to the amusement of said stupid Colonel. It wasn't his fault his ears were sensitive. He hadn't known he liked having his head petted, either, but it was soothing… And dammit, it was that bastard Colonel Dumbass's fault in the first place. Even though he was lying with his back to the smirking bastard, Ed could just _hear_ the expression on his face. No, he was NOT kneading his pillow. Stupid smirky bastard. If it just didn't feel so damn good…

Roy Mustang smirked at the twitching he'd brought about with one simple, _innocent_ comment. He only really began to worry when Fullmetal suddenly went completely still, and then stretched more gracefully than any cat, at least as far as Roy was concerned. He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he barely noticed Edward had moved until he was completely wrapped around Roy and whispering in his ear.

"Good kitty, huh?" He jumped slightly as his ear was none-too-gently bitten. He checked with himself for a moment to make sure that he hadn't imagined it, but no, Edward Elric had indeed bitten his ear. The smirk grew wider. Tonight was going to be interesting.


	3. Riza: Strays

No warnings, just a friendly little Hawkeye character piece.

Strays

Riza Hawkeye sighed. She briefly wondered if it would be worth the bullets to chase Breda off the top of the filing cabinets. This week's charity case must be a dog. She read over another document and put it on the pile for the Colonel's attention. She'd give him another five minutes to finish his current game of solitaire and then he'd have to get back to work.

She made a mental note to acquisition more bullets. The Colonel would have to sign that, too. The people at supply were starting to become suspicious again.

If Breda didn't shut up and get down very soon, she'd give him a reason to. Fury's habit of using the office as his personal animal shelter would have to stop. She'd only made the problem worse by taking in one of the strays. Granted, Black Hayate was useful in his own way now that he'd worked his way into her life, but most of these animals had no place in a civilized household. Before Hayate had been a small yellow kitten that had seemed sweet at first, until it began to make a terror of itself. Finally, she'd just had to step in. Unfortunately it had escaped from the office and, as far as she knew, hadn't been seen since. For such a small ball of fluff, it had certainly been quite the distraction.

Thankfully, Fury was the only one she had to worry about bringing in things off the street. Of course, Havoc had his excuses and her fingers twitched just thinking about the routines that Breda, Falman, and Fury were prone to launch into. But Fury was the only one who felt compelled to drag strays into her orderly, professional office. And her disapproving looks didn't seem to be helping to resolve this particular situation any time soon.

With a last, futile glare at the antics of the office's other occupants, she turned back to the paperwork, deciding the Colonel's personal time was up. As she was rising, however, the sudden slam of the door caused her hand to jerk involuntarily toward her holster. The second, even louder slam announced that Fullmetal Alchemist Edward Elric had beaten her to the Colonel's office.

With another sigh, she sat back down, resigning herself to another wasted day, her fingers twitching dangerously. Perhaps Fury wasn't the only one to take in strays.


	4. Greed: Desire

No warnings, really. Just some dark thoughts.

Desire

Greed is an apt name, I suppose. I do want everything. I want possessions and people, preferably people willing to be possessions. But mostly I want freedom. Is that really so bad, to be so greedy as to not want to have to answer to anyone else, to listen to those sniveling idiots constantly following after "father." No thank you. I'm fine on my own.

The other sins? Well, I don't like them if that's what you mean. I never have. I'm too possessive, I suppose; I have a somewhat greater idea of personal space than they do. Then again, I don't hate them, either. Well, not really hate; that would be Wrath's department. I won't tell them that. As long as they know that I am more than willing to exert whatever force is necessary to protect what's mine, including my freedom, well then, we won't have any problems, will we?

I certainly don't fear them. I don't fear anything. Except, perhaps, her. But I've been out of her clutches long enough, and I don't intend to go back. It's a pity, really, that Gluttony attached himself to Lust rather than to me. I could have used a loyal ally in this fight. And I don't delude myself by thinking I'll be allowed my freedom for too long. I suppose I'm greedy even about the truth. They're ignoring me for now because they don't need me, but that will change and they'll need the Ultimate Shield before they can complete whatever their plan is this time. The puppet masters are cunning that way, leaving us just enough string to hang ourselves with, then pulling tight the minute they need us. Well, not this time. I'll take what consequences come, but they will be _mine_.

I wouldn't want to give you the wrong impression. I won't go down without a fight. That would be giving in, and I don't do that. I will hold on to every last day, hour, and second until it is wrenched from my grasp.

Perhaps the only thing I don't want is a soul. I don't see how the others can wish to become weak, less than they are, human. I have no wish to give up what I have now. Immortality, time is what I crave most of all. How better to amass everything you could ever want than by having literally all the time in the world to reach out and grasp it. They can cringe and wish all they want, but I will be no one's pet, not any more. How can you have everything if you are limited?

You know, they say that it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. This is true. So I'll willingly enter my own personal Hell, as long as it be on my terms and in my time. And in the end, isn't that what matters?


	5. Roy: A Guide to Social Drinking

No warnings on this one. Some under-the-radar Roy-angst.

Roy Mustang's Guide to Social Drinking

Roy Mustang drank gin, straight up. Usually. Like every other rule in his life, there are exceptions. Very structured exceptions. Exceptions that are themselves rules, in a way. The fact that he drinks gin at all is somewhat surprising as he despises the very taste of it. Maes Hughes, now, stood by the fact that no evening was complete without a gin and tonic. He had introduced Roy to them. Roy had promptly gone back to drinking his brandy without giving the gin and tonic another thought.

He actually preferred not to drink anything with alcohol in it at most times, appreciating the need for a clear head in most situations. What he drank, when, and with whom were all very important decisions. A slip-up could be extremely costly.

Brandy was his drink of choice at dinners of state and such. One could not help but look distinguished with a snifter of cognac, for example. Brandy was a drink for those of status.

Wine was only for certain occasions. He spared no expense for the wine on his dates. The best white when fish was fashionable, the perfect red for delicate after-dinner conversation. He had become known in certain circles as something of a connoisseur, knowing the perfect wine for all occasions. Roy Mustang was nothing if not prepared.

Vodka was a drink when you wanted to forget. Hughes had taught him that as well. There had been no vodka in Ishbal. The exception to the vodka exception was when he entertained privately. He had been told he mixed an excellent dry martini with vodka. He never bothered to explain why he refused to use gin. It was chocked up to a matter of taste.

Beer was common, a drink not usually enjoyed by those on the road to be fuhrer. Roy had however, on occasion, been known to go out and have a beer or two with some of his more loyal followers. At the worst of times, it allowed for a moment of relaxation. At the best, he could enjoy watching the lieutenants drink Fullmetal under the table. He enjoyed sitting back, nursing a beer, and noting the interactions. He always noted that while he would drink other things, Fullmetal preferred whiskey. He pretended not to remember that whiskey had been the first drink he had purchased for Fullmetal when he came of age.

But gin… gin was a drink to drink out of the bottle while staring into the flames of a fire, sitting in a chair, letting the memories drain away as the bottle emptied. Gin was a drink for solitude and remembrance. It was an indulgence of his, perhaps, or a search for forgiveness. Roy Mustang drank gin, though it was a well-known secret that he despised the taste of it. So much so, in fact, that he refused to even touch gin and tonic.


	6. Envy: Total Slaughter

Warnings: Very morbid, dark humor. Envy being extremely violent. Lust's perspective. Song "Total Slaughter" taken from Trigun.

Total Slaughter

It was excessive, really. They'd had orders to 'clear the streets' yes, but those orders hadn't involved killing every man, woman, and child in sight. Especially not when she had to follow along behind Envy as he…

Was he _skipping_ now?

She supposed they couldn't very well have Gluttony wandering off on his own, though, so here she was. It just wouldn't do, after all, for there to be any signs left that this massacre had ended with soldiers bearing wounds very similar to those of the dead civilians. Once again, she was stuck cleaning up after Envy's indiscretion.

Where had he found a sword?

Honestly, for being the oldest of them, he had the attention span of a toddler. And while she had few enough morals herself, Envy made her look like a saint. She resisted the urge to massage her forehead, looking away as a child stumbled and fell. She and Gluttony caught up to Envy as he paused to carve something illegible into the back of a victim. She needed to have a long talk with him about 'appropriate' behavior. He just-

She couldn't stop herself from blinking in astonishment.

Was he… was he _singing_ now?

Against her better judgment, she stepped closer as he rose and began looking through windows and doorways for anyone he might have missed. His singing was unmistakable.

_Total slaughter, total slaughter._

_I won't leave a single one alive._

_La de da de dai, genocide._

_La de da de duh, an ocean of blood._

_Let's begin the killing time._

…For the first time in her life, Lust found herself speechless. Envy skipped off, disappearing around a corner to a chorus of screams. Gluttony was pulling at her arm, needing her attention. Envy wasn't her problem; why should she care if he carried himself with the bearing his position deserved or not?

Directing Gluttony to eat any further bodies they found with 'Envy wuz here' carved into them, she contemplated the damage control she would have to do here. It would be extensive thanks to the little sociopath. She grinned as the old saying ran through her head with a new twist: like Mother, like son.


	7. Hughes and Roy: Blue Skies

No warnings. Roy and Hughes, pre-series. Very odd dialogue only.

Blue Skies

"So when are you going to settle down and get yourself a wife, Roy?"

"Probably about the same time you learn to take a hint."

"Ouch, just ouch. You know, I think you'd find a wife faster if you worked on that attitude a bit."

"Hughes, I've never used alchemy on an unarmed man before, but dammit, I swear-"

"Wow, didn't know people could turn that shade of purple. It's impressive."

"Hughes, so help me-"

"Yeah, yeah, Mr. Flame Alchemist, I get it. You're scary. I'm terrified, oh save me."

"Most people would be on their knees begging by now."

"Really, Roy, wasn't aware you swung that way."

"Hughes…!"

"Yes, Roy?"

"Dammit, Hughes, could you _BE_ anymore annoying?"

"Hmm. I could try. You know, since Gracia's been pregnant, she's simply even more radiant than before. I think I have a picture. My, what an interesting twitch you've developed."

"That wasn't an invitation."

"You should really enjoy the joys of future fatherhood, Roy. You know, the public likes the Fuhrer to have a child or two, with a pretty wife on his arm at state functions."

"That's treason, Hughes."

"Planning on reporting me?"

"Mm, I suppose not. You have your uses yet. You'd make a pretty good secretary."

"Haha, Mr. State Alchemist. Thanks, but no. I think I can serve you a little better by staying where I am and working under you."

"Why, Hughes, wasn't aware you swung that way."

"Didn't know you cared, Roy. Of course, I'd have to okay it with Gracia, but-"

"Hughes?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up."


	8. Ed: My Brother's Keeper

Warnings: First, this fic and the one that follow it are both part of the Pandora's Box alterverse created by UOChaos, which can be found over at the fmaalterverse livejournal comm. Secondly, they're both Ed-centric, but Pandora's isn't exactly the Ed we're used to. So be prepared for angst. That is all.

My Brother's Keeper

_Then the Lord said to Cain, "Where is your brother Abel?" _

_He said, "I do not know; am I my brother's keeper?"_

_Gen. 4: 9_

I am my brother's keeper. I failed at that once. I won't again. There is nothing I won't do to get him back. They try to smile and say it wasn't my fault, but I can see the lies hidden in their eyes. Not that I expect them to understand. This is my burden to carry. I thought I could do what shouldn't be done, and I was wrong. The innocent paid the passage for the sinner's soul, a passage into an enlightenment I didn't want. Sometimes I can still hear the last words I spoke to him, telling him it would be alright. He trusted me.

I will get him back, and until I do I will keep everything I have of him safe. I keep his memory. How could I not when I can't close my eyes without seeing him, can't be silent without hearing his voice? I swear I hear him sometimes, laughing at his older brother, laughing like we used to. I'm glad he can't see me now, but is it wrong… to wish he were here to see? Sometimes I think I do see him, a flash at the corner of my eye, a figure disappearing around the corner. I've stopped looking. Hope won't bring my brother back.

I keep his heart with me, too, to remind me of what a monster I've become, what kind of monster I will have to become to get him back. I lock it away from mine, so that the contamination can't spread to it. Sometimes it feels crowded, two hearts in one body… I would, will gladly give mine up when the time comes- to let his grow, to give him back what was denied because of my arrogance. With that crime stamped on my soul, what is one more unclean soul released from a useless life? I lost him to my pride… Now, I teach the world humility. This is my punishment, my atonement, my curse, and my salvation: I am my brother's keeper.


	9. Ed: Guilty as Charged

Notes: This is the second of the Pandora's Box flashfics. Credit for the new twists to the universe go to UOChaos.

Guilty as Charged

Guilt was a funny thing. Simple word, too. Just a tapping motion above the heart. Poetic. Or a single sound forced out through a throat too tight, like the kind you get when you've wanted to cry for a good long time but don't dare let yourself for fear you wouldn't stop.

Guilt can hold you back like a noose, or it can drive you to the ends of the earth like Io's fly, not giving you a moment to stop and catch your breath or think or do anything but try to get away from it, fix it, _stop_ it.

Any means is justified. Any crime, any wrong couldn't possibly add any more to the guilt than a single raindrop could raise the level of a river. They have no meaning, no reason for you anymore. They are just a way to stop the guilt, right the original wrong. There is no good or evil beyond that driving need, that compulsion to undo what you did, to close and lock the doors you unwittingly found like the trapdoor in a funhouse.

Or a madhouse. You'd believe either.

You sometimes wonder if one day you'll wake up and this madhouse nightmare will be over and _he'll_... but no. You don't let yourself wonder beyond that, do you? Because that would be a dream, and you don't allow yourself dreams. You say it's because they'd only slow you down, but it's really because you don't deserve them. Because you took his.

Congratulations. Guilty as charged.


	10. Pride Ed and Envy: Jobs Well Done

Warnings: The first true drabble in this collection. Okay, so that wasn't exactly a warning, but still. Actual warnings are for somewhat disturbing images.

Jobs Well Done

"Brother?" The people, the ones he was here for, were coming closer. He tensed.

"Wait." So he did. He was patient.

When the command finally came, he moved quickly, scythe already out and flashing, reflecting a blood red moon, making him an ethereal last vision. Ordinary people such as the soldiers presented little difficulty to him. He stood, blood-spattered, awaiting any word from the silent spectator.

"Good enough. Let's go." Golden hair dripping ichor, he followed. He did not expect more, nor did he get it. His brother had acknowledged his kill as good, _him_ as good. It was enough


	11. Ed: Ubermensch

Warnings: Nazi imagery. It is not condoned in any way, shape, or form, but if this bothers you, please don't spend your time flaming me.

Ubermensch

He looked out his window as the parade of Hitler Youth went by. Honestly, who did these people think they were kidding? He couldn't help but feel scorn for the straight lines of children-

he didn't care what they called them, these were CHILDREN learning to hate like this

- goosestepping through the rows of houses filled with people who were not and never would be 'perfect.' There was no perfection, he'd learned that the hard way. He hated himself for it, but he couldn't escape his reality. He.. couldn't. He was too weak even to escape that which was sent to tempt him into further imperfection. He hated himself, hated the monster, hated… everything about this world that kept him from the one thing he truly wanted-

want was what had gotten him into this in the first place, hadn't it? wanting too much

-which was a way home.

They called themselves Ubermensch, a master race, perfect humans… they weren't anymore perfect than he was and… well, he'd met the 'Ubermensch,' back in his own world and in his nightmares.

Waking nightmares, filled with hands and teeth and… no. He wouldn't, couldn't think about the monster. Heh… if these people knew what a true 'Ubermensch' was, they'd run screaming for the hills and never speak the word again. He was half tempted to-

temptation, always temptation, wasn't it?

-turn the monster loose. But he wouldn't. He watched the last of the children go by, wondering how they could consider blond and blue to be so perfect when true terror, true power, true… perfection.. came only in black and purple.


	12. Ed and Roy: Battlefield Tactics

Warnings: Implied battlescene. Roy and Ed genfic. Okay, that last's not a warning, really.. unless you're a yaoi fan.

Battlefield Tactics

The shudders were finally following the retching into stillness when the jacket landed on his shoulders. The unexpected warmth reminded his body that it was freezing and started up the shuddering again. He was sure if that helped his mood or made it worse.

The hand that landed firmly - was it with censure or support? he couldn't tell - on his shoulder confirmed his finder's identity.

"Fuck you, Mustang."

"You are not old enough, pretty enough, or, frankly, female enough for that, Fullmetal. Can you stand?"

"Is that an order, _sir_?" His only response was a hand held in front of his face. He considered it, checking carefully for any possible trickery and pondering the rough probability of his being able to make it to his feet on his own before taking the hand. "It's been a bad day."

There, that was almost an apology.

"I know. You did a good job, though."

If only it weren't a crime to attack your commanding officer. "A good job! How many families lost a father today because of me?"

"That's true, Fullmetal. But-"

Oh, how he hated that look.

"-how many Amestran families still have fathers tonight because of you?"

He was in no mood for logic tonight. "Shut up, Mustang. I don't want to hear it... Not tonight."

"Ah yes, I suppose not."

A pair of hands on his shoulders turned him around and guided him back toward the almost-comforting camp lights. It didn't occur to him and wouldn't until much later that for all the lights to be lit, he must have been missing, sitting there retching on a battlefield where too many people _his age_ had fought and died, for quite a while and that it might be a little unusual for the officer in charge of an entire forward camp to go looking for a single unaccounted for soldier.

He never meant for Mustang to hear when he muttered, "I don't know if I can do this much longer," but Mustang was known for being contrary.

"You won't have to." Equally quiet, whether a promise or a reminder, neither knew, but it was enough.


	13. Ed: Gates, Rings, and Things

No warnings, unless you count the mind-warpiness that is the Gate having a sense of humor. First of a pair of crossovers. This one is FMA/LotR.

Gates, Rings, and Things

His head spun as the Gate spit him out- this time, he hoped, in the correct world. Everything went round for a second, and he waited for the sensation to pass... until he realized that everything actually _was_ round. Okay, so not Amestris.

He heard people coming up from behind him and spun around to find... tiny people. Shock rolled through his mind, followed closely by elation. HA! Now he had to get back home, just to stick this to Mustang. His dance of triumph, unfortunately, was interrupted by the smaller beings.

"Is that a human?"

"Can't be, he's too short."

The resulting explosion was often compared by future generations of hobbits to the story told by Nine-Fingered Frodo about the death of the One Ring.

"WAAAAAAAH! WHO'S SO SHORT-"

The cry was cut off as a large set of doors opened behind him, pulling him in and disappearing with what sounded like an amused snort. Doors, however, as was well known, did not have senses of humor so that was impossible.

The two hobbits stared for a while longer before deciding they'd simply had too much ale.

And life continued in the Shire much as it always had, with, for just a moment, a hint of darkly amused laughter ringing on the gentle Shire breeze.


	14. Ed: Universal Problem

No warnings except that this is the second crossover. This one is FMA/Star Wars.

Universal Problem

Once upon a time, once upon two times actually, two very separate times in very separate parts of the universe, two very different young men dealt with a very similar problem. They had very little in common otherwise - both were prodigies in their own forms of magic, both had been given the choice between a terrible good and a horrendous evil. It was this choice, actually, that had spawned their problem-

How does one absolve one's self from a guilt one is never sure will be paid off?

You see, the choice was this: to sacrifice many for the life of a single loved one. Not an easy choice for anyone, but especially not for the two young men, little more than boys really, who were forced to make it.

One accepted the offer which led him down a dark road to complete ruin. The other... didn't.

Neither was able to help their loved ones, but at least the one who chose evil tried. That was the catch, wasn't it? One knew he had tried but had the blood of a million innocents on his hands. The other... didn't.

Hadn't.

Neither was happy. Neither had gotten what they wanted. Both were guilty.

So, you see, these two boys really weren't that similar at all.


End file.
